


Lies We Tell To The Universe

by orphan_account



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hell, I mean, M/M, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Spoilers for Death To The Mechanisms, and i can't go back to the stream for reassurance because it cut out at this part, forgive me if my mechs lore is a Bit rusty, i hope so? the concert was a week ago so some details might be fuzzy, if u are looking for something soft this is Not It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Can you see me alright, Tim?”He can. Tim looks at Bertie for the first time in ages. Before him is the perfect image of Bertie before the war. There’s no real evidence of stress on his face, no lunar grime caked into his perfect features, and Bertie looks so very alive.
Relationships: Bertie/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	Lies We Tell To The Universe

**Author's Note:**

> god wont let me rest until i post something about gunpowder tim dying
> 
> i went to both shows and im suffering but in a good way

“Tim?”

The sound of the call makes him think he’s underwater, but the air in Tim’s lungs tells a different story. It’s warped and distorted, dreamlike, almost. Whoever is talking to him sounds familiar, but he just can’t place it due to the noise.

“Tim, please.”

It clicks, and Tim figures that he must be dreaming. Bertie can’t be calling out to him, he’s dead. Dreams don’t usually happen in a half conscious state though, so Tim is a touch skeptical. He tries to move his limbs, but he can’t tell if he’s being restrained, or if he’s just too weak to move. What a shitty dream.

“Open your eyes, Tim. Please.”

If he could move, Tim would laugh. He hasn’t had his own eyes in at least ten years, or was that ten thousand? It gets hard to tell. Still, he knows what Bertie means. The mechanical eyes gifted to him were his, even if they were not original to him. Any discussion otherwise leads to Theseus’ spaceship, and Theseus was a wanker. So was Ariadne though, both of them just used each other. Neither of them could know true love, not like himself and…

“Tim, I need you to look at me.”

Bertie sounded distressed, causing Tim to be assaulted by pangs of guilt. He knows in his heart that this is just a dream, but the idea of hurting Bertie coils something awful in his stomach and makes his whole body ache with regret. Before he can even reason with himself, Tim feels the whirring of his nerves interacting with the sockets where eyes once were. Slowly but surely, his mechanical eyes open and the image feed focuses in on what’s right in front of him.

“Can you see me alright, Tim?”

He can. Tim looks at Bertie for the first time in ages. Before him is the perfect image of Bertie before the war. There’s no real evidence of stress on his face, no lunar grime caked into his perfect features, and Bertie looks so very alive. If Tim still had his original eyes, the human ones, he’s sure the tears would be flowing, unrelentingly so. He wants to curse the eyes loaded with circuitry and other parts that couldn’t handle certain human functions, but without them, he wouldn’t be seeing Bertie. All thoughts of this being a dream have left him. “Am I in heaven?” Tim asks, the words hoarse in his throat.

Bertie laughs. It’s a sound that lifts Tim’s spirits and drags him back from thousands of years of mourning. When Bertie stops, however, his face turns almost sinister. A look so harsh, Tim had never seen it grace his lover’s face in their time together. “No, Tim,” Bertie says, almost condescendingly. “You’re in hell.”

It is at this point that Tim remembers. He remembers his aim weakening, he remembers heading towards that planet he saved for the occasion, and he remembers not securing his seat belt. Tim remembers all of the excitement and all of the pain of his ending.

He wants to ask, he needs to know, why Bertie is in hell with him. Sure, Bertie fought beside him in the war. Bertie killed with him, but he was nowhere on Tim’s own level. Alongside the crew of the Aurora, his life was almost exclusively riddled with violence and sin. 

Tim doesn’t get the chance to ask, as Bertie dies right before him. It’s the same scene that played out on the moon all those years ago. The same scene that made Tim snap, right before his very eyes, crystal clear due to his enhancements and the lack of lunar smog. He can’t move as he watches his love convulse in agony. He can’t scream, but almost feels like the scream coming from Bertie’s mouth is somehow his own.

He wasn’t one to pray, but in this moment, as Bertie bleeds out before him, Tim wishes for three things. Firstly, he prays that this really is a dream. He knows it’s fruitless, feeling the searing heats of Hell creeping in on his recovering senses. Secondly, he hopes that this is the trick of some devil. If this is someone sent to torture him for all eternity, so be it. Anything that means Bertie isn’t sentenced to relive his own death just because of Tim. The thought alone makes him nauseous. Finally, Tim wishes for release.

And it seems that some cosmic Hell genie answers him, as he gets knocked out. He can’t hear, see, or feel anything, so he drifts. Of course, the reality of being stuck in Hell dampens any good daydream, but he tries. Most of his thoughts are of Bertie, but all of them are of love: Rose and Cinders, the Pendragons, Ulysses and Penelope, Orpheus and Eurydice, Loki and Sigyn.

“Tim?”

He’s pulled from the memories as a voice once again calls out to him. Tim expects to wake up to a slightly different version of the same scene, like Frankenstein (the woman, not the AI). This is not what happens.

Tim opens his eyes to see Jonny d’Ville. He once again resigns himself to believing that this really is Hell. “Jonny, what are you doing here?”

“I thought it was time for me to rest. I accepted it, and dying was wonderful,” Jonny explains wistfully. “But then I got bored.”

“Mhm.”

“Whether or not I deserve to be tortured for all of eternity is up for debate, but it’s so boring here, so I stole this.” Jonny produces a weapon that Tim had never seen the likes of before. “This can kill demons!”

“Have you considered that being bored for eternity might have been your punishment?” Tim asks with a sigh.

“Well, they’re doing a piss poor job of it. That’s on them,” Jonny shrugs. “I killed the demon in a Bertie suit for you.”

Tim tries to nod, but he can’t move. Instead his eyes locate the pile of gore and shreds that look almost like Bertie. For once, Tim hopes that Jonny is right.

“So right now,” Jonny says, pulling Tim's attention away from the mess. “Your options are stay chained here for all of eternity doing nothing until someone notices and assigns someone else to torture you, or come help me kill the god of death. What do you say?”

Jonny offers out a hand, symbolically, as Tim still cannot move.

**Author's Note:**

> i really had no clue where i was going w that ending and it Shows


End file.
